


A Private Sacrament

by catlinyemaker



Series: A Warrior's Heart [3]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Alderaan, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Vette/Jaesa Willsaam if you squint, Wedding Night, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 12:09:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5868859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catlinyemaker/pseuds/catlinyemaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A private ceremony, away from Imperial eyes, that was what Adiira wanted.  Malavai had other plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A private ceremony, away from Imperial eyes, that was what Adiira wanted. Marrying Malavai would make him even more of a target than he was as her second; the fewer people who knew about it the better. She wasn’t about to deny him the formal vows that meant so much to him, but that didn’t mean they had to take foolish risks.

She thought, and finally placed a holocall. The captain of the guard of House Panteer had said that she could call on him at need when she had returned the crown to him. She would call in the favor. Alderaan was far from the center of the Imperium and little regarded, House Panteer no longer a major player in planetary politics. It should be safe enough.   The captain might be able to help them; perhaps he would know of a vacation cottage they could rent, something of that sort.

Captain Lieber nodded firmly at the close of the call. “Lord Adiira, it would be my honor to assist you. If you will leave the arrangements to me, we can have everything ready for you in two weeks’ time.”

Adiira signed off with relief. A quiet wedding on Alderaan, followed by a pleasant week in the mountains Malavai loved so. She would have to pack her warmest jackets, but turnabout was fair play; he’d gone with her to Tatooine after all. And she’d need to remember to bring something nice to wear for the ceremony itself. Two weeks would be just enough time to settle the last of their business and see the rest of the crew off on leave.

#

Overnight bags in hand, Adiira and Quinn left the spaceport, heading for the taxi stand. They were to meet Captain Lieber at House Panteer, and he’d take them to their lodgings from there.

“My lord,” Quinn said, directing her attention to the liveried men standing to attention in front of an old-fashioned carriage complete to a coat of baronial arms on the door. At their head was Captain Lieber, in full ceremonial rig, and he was waving them over.

“I’d say I’m sorry about the turnout, but it’s really no more than you deserve,” he said, amusement plain in his voice. “I know you wanted a small, quiet ceremony, but the Baron found out that you were coming and why. It’s out of my hands now.” He grinned as he handed Adiira carefully into the carriage and clapped Quinn on the shoulder, saluting them both as the carriage pulled away.

“I think I know how the Baron found out,” Adiira said with a slight growl, looking accusingly at her betrothed.

“Captain Lieber was right, it is no more than you deserve. You have greater credit with these folk than you know; they want to do something nice for you. We should relax and enjoy it.” Quinn patted the bench at his side invitingly. “I think you would be much more comfortable here than sitting way over there.”

“Start the relaxation now, you mean?” She smiled and shifted to his side of the carriage, leaning against him as his arm went around her.

#

The admittance bell chimed. Vette was in the common room of their shared suite in one of the more reputable hotels of Nar Shaddaa; she’d handle whoever it was. Jaesa sat down at the dressing table and began to brush her hair for the night; her long hair was a luxury she’d opted to keep when so much else had changed in her life. She heard the door open, then close.

“EEEEEEE!”

A sudden high scream erupted from the common room. Jaesa snatched up her lightsaber and vaulted though the bedroom doorway, nightgown fluttering, blade humming to baleful orange life. She stopped abruptly, stumbling a bit with the momentum, transfixed by the sight of Vette doing a wild war dance in the center of the room. No one else was there; the lightsaber guttered and died.

The scream modulated into words, distorted but recognizable: “Woooo! Wedding wedding wedding wedding! Woohoo!”

“Vette?...” Jaesa asked cautiously, “What’s going on?”

Vette brandished a padded envelope at Jaesa, came over, grabbed her and hugged her breathless. “We’re going to a wedding!” She let go and grabbed Jaesa’s arms, heedless of lightsaber and package, dancing her around the room. “Adiira’s getting married!”

“What!?”

Vette twirled to a stop, panting. “Courier showed up at the door, with this,” she said, pulling a datapad partway out of the envelope. “It’s all here, look.” She studied the tablet, running her finger down the screen.

“Quiet ceremony, blah, blah, very happy, yeah we know, Quinny. Come, blah blah, don’t spread it around - no duh, Captain Paranoid. Plus two tickets on a fast transport to Alderaan. And a really big credit chit, ‘for expenses’, it says.”

“Alderaan,” Jaesa said quietly.

Vette stopped and looked at her thoughtfully, head canted to one side. “Is that gonna be a problem for you? Cause, cause we could, you know, skip it...” she said, lekku trembling just a little, “if you couldn’t handle it?”

“Oh, oh no, Vette! I’ll be fine; it’s just been so long since I’ve been home. Where are we going on Alderaan?”

“The letter says ‘guests of House Panteer’; we’re supposed to call some captain for pickup when we get on planet.” Vette said, grinning again and bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“House Panteer? Are you sure?” Jaesa reached over and plucked the datapad out of Vette’s fingers to read it herself.

“What’s wrong with House Panteer? They Republicans or something?”

“No, no,” Jaesa said absently, reading through Captain Quinn’s letter for herself. “They’re the noblest of the noble houses, though. They used to be the kings and queens of Alderaan. They’re a small House, but very wealthy.”

“Ohh…” Vette said, “That makes sense. Now I know why Captain Persnickety ordered us to Nar Shaddaa together, plus why all the credits. Get dressed!”   She bounded into the bedroom and shrugged into her armored jacket.

“Why’s that?” Jaesa asked, staying put and folding her arms stubbornly.

Vette stuck her head out of the room. “Because Nar Shaddaa shopping is twenty four hours a day and you can get anything here. We really NEED fancy new clothes before we have to catch that ship! C’mon!”

It wasn’t long before both women were re-dressed and ready to shop. Credit chit securely in her pocket, Vette chuckled and ran her finger down the datapad once more before shutting it off.  

“Very sneaky, Quinny, very sneaky. I approve!”

#

This dressing room was larger than her stateroom aboard the Fury. Adiira stood before a wall of mirrors, her arms held carefully away from her sides as directed. Two seamstresses knelt at her hem while a third stood on a stool at her back, doing something complicated to the high collar of the Alderaanian gown. Her bemused eyes met the gaze of her reflection. Staring back was a noblewoman - no, a princess, resplendent in deep blue velvet. Her bodice was rich with gold embroidery; fine gold chains hung from her shoulders and looped over the tops of the long sleeves. The flowing skirt draped in beautiful folds to the ground, belling slightly as she turned in a circle, obedient to the servants’ commands.

“Brava!” Her host entered the room, clapping his hands, followed by a retainer carrying a small leather case. The women stepped away from her and bowed.

“It’s like nothing I’ve ever owned,” Adiira confessed. “It’s beautiful; I didn’t expect anything like this. Thank you.”

“It is the least we could do for the hero who returned our crown. Which reminds me; the final touch. You would honor me if you would wear the Landsfall tiara; it is tradition for the brides in our family.” Baron Panteer gestured to the man at his side; the retainer opened the case to reveal a delicate band of gold wire, vines and flowers twining and rising to a low peak in front. The gown had clearly been designed with the tiara in mind; they matched perfectly.

“It would be my honor, my lord.” Adiira bowed to her host and started to kneel, then straightened hastily, warned by the hisses of the seamstresses. Instead, one of the women took the tiara from its box and stood on the stepstool to place it on her head, fussing to get her short hair to fall just so around it.

#

The chapel was a blur of light and color; sunlight falling through tall stained glass windows shed crimson, gold, and blue patterns over everything. Adiira could only see one figure clearly; Malavai stood at the front of the room with the officiant, his dress uniform impeccable, his bearing proud. She came to him in solemn processional, moving in time to the slow march which had started as she’d crossed the threshold. He was so handsome, his face alight with joy as he watched her walk to meet him.

#

There was lavish food and wine and even a live band for dancing at the reception after the ceremony.  The Baron had invited many more people than Adiira would have deemed prudent, and they all seemed to be having a very good time.  She suspected some of the attendees weren’t sure what the celebration was for, but that was well enough.  It was an excellent party. Adiira had been whirled from hand to hand in the dancing, occasionally meeting up with her husband for half a dance or a few whispered sentences or a very public (and sedate) kiss, when the guests chimed their glasses.

She’d finally pleaded exhaustion and the solicitous Baron had seen her settled at a table, a glass of champagne pressed into her hand.

Adiira caught a glimpse of a blue Twi’lek head bobbing on the dance floor and sighed over her champagne.  She regretted the urge for secrecy that had caused her to send Vette and Jaesa away, now.  Her initial plan for a small private ceremony had been thoroughly overrun; they could have come.   _‘Vette would really have enjoyed all this,_ ’ she thought, scanning the packed ballroom.

She looked again for the Twi’lek on the dance floor but the blue head was gone. One of the Baron’s footmen approached her.

“My lady, one of the guests requests a private audience,” he said. She sighed inwardly; Alderaanians never could keep Imperial titles straight.

“Very well.” She looked for Malavai but didn’t see him in the crush. It should be safe enough. The footman bowed her over to one of the retiring rooms off the main ballroom. He pushed the double doors wide and declaimed: “The Lady Adiira Quinn!” Behind him she winced, but there was nothing for it but to walk through those doors as if she were announced in that fashion every day. Two elegantly dressed women in… the…

“Vette?! Jaesa!!” Tired feet forgotten, she ran to embrace them both. The three way hug was heartfelt; she stepped back, dashing away happy tears. “How?”

“Captain Awesome did it,” Vette said smugly. Jaesa nodded beside her.

Adiira laughed: “Captain Awesome?”

“Well, he got us here, gotta cut him some slack. Just for today,” Vette said, shaking her finger.

Adiira nodded gravely, eyes twinkling: “Just for today. We wouldn’t want him to get above himself, after all.”

“Right!” Vette shot back with a grin.

“I’m so glad to see you both,” Adiira said, taking their hands in hers. “Were you here the whole time?”

“We arrived last night,” Jaesa said. “Captain Lieber met us at the spaceport.”

“Nice wedding,” Vette chimed in.  “You look amazing!  And these Panteer people really know how to throw a party.”  She waved a hand at their glittering surrounds, taking in everything from the lush flower arrangements in silver vases to the elegant chandeliers overhead.

“It’s perfect now that you two are here.” Adiira admitted.  “I…  I need to apologize to you both.  I should have told you.  I am very happy that Quinn did tell you.”

Vette’s face went unaccustomedly somber.  “You know, my lord, you’re right about all of that.”

“We’re your team,” Jaesa put in.

“You should trust us,” they said together.

“I’ll try,” Adiira said seriously.  “It’s hard to remember that I don’t have to hide everything from everyone.  But I’ll try.”

Vette held up one hand palm out, first three fingers raised.  “Sith swear!” she cried.

Adiira wrinkled her nose in amusement: “Sith swear, Vette?”

Vette fired an impious grin back at her, cocked her head and waited.

“How about this, then.”  Adiira thought for a moment, then drew herself up and placed a hand over her heart.  “I swear on my honor to treat the two of you as confidants from now on, and to trust you with my secrets as I do Malavai.”

Vette closed her mouth with an audible click and swallowed, eyes wide.  “Uhh, yeah.  I think that’ll do it.”

“Thank you, Master,” Jaesa added solemnly.

(Malavai scanned the ballroom for his bride and smiled in satisfaction, seeing her re-enter the hall arm in arm with her two closest friends.)


	2. Chapter 2

They were private at last, in the guestroom set aside for their use. Malavai carefully removed the precious tiara and set it aside on a table before taking her face in his hands to kiss her thoroughly.  

When they came up for air he said “You are _so_ beautiful.  You look like a queen.”

“It’s this dress.” Adiira brushed her hand down the velvet skirt.

“No, it’s not,” he said, shaking his head.  “You are just as beautiful in trousers.  And we’d better change; I don’t think you want to ride sidesaddle up to the Aerie.”

“The Aerie?”

“Our honeymoon getaway, apparently.  Another tradition of House Panteer.  I took the briefing while you were getting dressed.  It’s a mountaintop lodge, very private, very discreet, and very defensible at need, I was assured.  And only accessible by thranta.”

“Private, discreet... sounds perfect.”  Adiira’s eyes danced.  “Let’s hope defensible doesn’t enter into it.”

“How does this come off?”  He frowned, turning her, looking for fastenings.  “I have no idea,” she said, chuckling a bit, “I think they sewed me into it.”

“Well,” he said confidently, “anything that woman can do, man can undo.”

She laughed harder.  “You weren’t at that fitting, my dear captain.  The only way I could get myself out of this dress would be with a lightsaber.”  

“That would be a pity.  I’ll have to find the fastenings for you instead.  I’ll just have to run my fingers over every inch of this bodice,” Malavai said with a grin.  Eventually, he discovered the rows of tiny hooks cleverly set into the side seams, but not before both of them were somewhat tousled and quite warm.  

When he’d undone about half of them, Adiira shifted just enough to make his fingertips slip from the fasteners and onto soft warm skin.  Her quiet moan matched his indrawn breath; her eyes darkened as he claimed her mouth with another deep kiss, the hand inside her dress tracing arabesques down her spine.

The remaining hooks gave way all at once with a sudden prickle of Force power - his lord had lost patience with the play.  Malavai pushed the sleeves from her shoulders and she shrugged the rest of the way out of the bodice, fine gold chains chiming as the garment fell to her waist.  His breath caught at the sight of her, beautiful, _his_.  Adiira took advantage of his pause to undo the fastenings of his uniform tunic, opening it and the shirt beneath, her hands caressing his chest before going around his waist to hold him tightly as they embraced skin to skin.

A firm rap on the door brought them back to their surroundings.  They drew apart reluctantly.

“Yes?” Malavai called, somewhat hoarsely.  His voice was rough; he cleared his throat and tried again, louder: “yes?”

“Sir?  Milady?  Your thrantas have been saddled for you.”  The deferential voice coming through the door was evidently one of the Baron’s underlings.

Adiira growled softly and sighed, then raised her voice: “We’ll be right there,” she called back curtly.  Malavai had already stepped aside and opened their cases, pulling out warm, practical clothing for them both.

“The lodge will be entirely private,” he murmured as they began to dress, hoping to ease her thwarted frown.

“...and defensible at need,” she responded with a half-laugh, half-snarl.

#

Adiira had never admitted it to anyone, but she greatly enjoyed thranta-flight.  Her thranta rose and fell gently as it navigated the air currents swirling through the mountain pass.  Its body heat warmed the pierced-work saddle, a welcome contrast to the brisk wind ruffling the fur which edged her hooded jacket.

The great beast swam through darkened wintery skies, following its nestmate ahead.  Malavai turned to wave at her from its saddle; she waved back, and he pointed to his right and downward.  Torches marked the four corners of a small slate-paved landing, swept clean of snow.  It took her a moment to spy the lodge itself, native stone walls nestled into the cliff side as if it had grown there, at the edge of what was either a large ledge or a small plateau.  Malavai would know the technical term for the clearing; she could ask him later.  

A blanket of snow softened the lines of roof and eaves, obscuring them from the air.  The only clear sign that this was a dwelling was the golden light glowing from tall arched windows, bearing the promise of warmth and comfort within.

The thrantas called to each other in haunting song, and both began to spiral downward, making for the landing site.  The lead thranta came to ground first; Adiira kept her beast circling above as Malavai dismounted and pulled his saddlebags from its back.  A droid stablehand clipped long lead reins to the beast’s harness and led it off.  Once the landing pad was clear, Malavai motioned to her to land; she clucked to her mount and sent it groundward.

Her thranta came to rest in the center of the landing pad, hovering a few feet off the ground.  Adiira was surprised to see two more droids trundling up from an outbuilding, dragging an old-fashioned mounting block on sledge-like runners along the packed-snow path.  Before they could reach her, Malavai was there; he held up his arms to her and she gladly swung out of the saddle and into his embrace.  Adiira braced her hands on his shoulders for a moment as his arms went around her hips to hold her up; once she was stable he loosened his grip and allowed her to slide easily to the ground.

The droids left the mounting block on the path and came forward, whistling to each other in what seemed like faint disapproval.  One gathered up the luggage; the other collected her thranta, which churred softly as it was led away to its rest.

The night was brilliantly clear and bitterly cold here in the mountains.  Malavai turned in place to take in the stars above and the dark peaks enclosing their small plateau.  Adiira was starting to shiver now that the thranta’s warmth was gone, despite being well-garbed in a fur-lined flight jacket.  She tugged at Malavai’s hands to start him moving to the main building and he went along with her easily, eyes still on the starry sky.

They followed a paved path leading to the main door of the lodge, swept clear and mostly dry.  Malavai returned his attention to ground level after just a few steps.

“Beautiful night,” he said.

“ _Freezing_ night,” Adiira retorted, making for the lodge with more speed now that they were both paying attention.

He chuckled, clear and uninhibited. “How is it that a son of the high mountains marries a woman who loves the deep desert?”

She loved to see him so relaxed, in the setting that fitted him so well; she smiled at him in response then mimed deep thought for a moment.  “Climate control,” she answered shortly, and pointed at the entrance imperiously.  “So get us inside.”

Malavai snorted with laughter at that and took an old-fashioned key cylinder from his jacket pocket, unlocking the heavy metal-bound door and pushing it open it to usher her inside.  “As my lord wishes,” he said, and followed her into the entry hall, letting the door fall shut behind them.  

#

The heavy door swung closed silently; Malavai took a moment to confirm that the latch had caught and to throw the security bolt home.  He turned back to survey the antechamber; a thick draft curtain covered the arched doorway opposite the entry door and built-in benches lined wood-paneled walls to either side, with sturdy hooks above them.  Taking off his jacket, he hung it on one of the hooks, tucking his gloves in a pocket.

Adiira had unfastened her jacket and seated herself on one of the benches; her gloves were set on the seat next to her and she rubbed her hands together before reaching for her boots.

He knelt before her and cupped her cold hands, chafing her reddened fingers gently and breathing on them to warm them.  “Allow me, my lord,” he said, releasing her hands to undo the laces on her flying boots, to pull them off and set them to one side.

She reached out to smooth his hair as he worked, settling strands disarranged by the hood, and gave a surprised laugh.

“Hmm?” He looked up and raised an eyebrow, inviting her to share the joke.

“Oh, well…” she started, lips curled in a helpless grin.  “...It’s just, well.  It reminded me of something.” Her gaze lifted to the far wall, though he didn’t think that was what she was seeing.  Adiira returned her attention to him.  “Do you remember, kneeling in that hangar on Balmorra, rattling off your superior qualifications to join my crew?”

He did indeed.  “I remember being vastly nervous; I suppose I did babble a bit.”

“I was thunderstruck, love.  I thought I would never see you again.  I was sure you’d go on to cover yourself with glory in the military, once you were free of that awful post.  And to learn _you_ wanted to be on _my_ ship, to serve me?   It was only surprise that kept me from saying ‘yes’ immediately.”  

He hadn’t realized she’d felt that way, had seen only that they’d worked so well together, strengths dovetailing in a synergy that he thought could surpass any other posting he might achieve.  He’d seen that she had honor - was a Sith he could be proud to serve.   And certainly, looking back, there had been attraction there on both sides from the very start, and glimmers of what might become friendship, if nothing more.

She bit her lip and went on shyly.  “But later, hm… well, I used to envision that scene playing out differently.”  Her dancing eyes came down to meet his curious look.  “I imagined that you’d be on your knees before me, pleading your case; I’d reach out and run my fingers through your hair,” she said, suiting action to words, “and raise you to your feet…”

Standing up in her stockinged feet she cupped his chin and drew him gently upright.  “And you would take me in your arms…”  

He followed her cue, sliding her coat from her shoulders and letting it fall before wrapping his arms around her and smiling down at her: “And then?” he asked.

“…and kiss me,” she went on softly.

Malavai bent to suit actions to her words with a gentle kiss that deepened as she responded to him, soft lips parting under his.  Her arms went around his neck, her hands tangled in his hair.  Long-deferred need coiled through him - he broke the kiss despite her soft cry of protest, bending down to lift her in his arms.

“Carrying me over the threshold, my Captain?”  He voice was rich with amusement as she settled against his chest, one arm around his neck.  She gestured with her free hand and the draft curtain lifted to one side.

“I wouldn’t want your feet to get any colder, my lord,” he responded with a low chuckle.  He stepped through the opening she’d created into the great room of the lodge.  It stretched two stories to a vaulted ceiling; balconies on either side held doorways which he knew accessed private sleeping quarters.  The stairs to them centered each wall, dividing the space into rough quadrants, each with its grouping of comfortable furniture.

A massive stone fireplace was set in the back wall, looking like it had been carved from the mountainside and the lodge built around it.  A small fire danced on glowing coals in the hearth.  Malavai eyed the oversized couches flanking the fireplace and the floor pillows scattered over the thick throw rug in front of it.  Some things were clichés for good reason, but he was glad to see that the scene-setting didn’t extend to a coarse Manka-hide rug.

He set Adiira down at the edge of the rug and she moved apart from him toward the fire’s warmth, holding her hands out to it and humming in pleasure.

“No people.” Her voice was contemplative.

“None.” He stepped up to stand at her side, putting an arm around her waist.  They watched the flames dance together.

“No droids?”

“Servitors only - I’m assured we won’t see them within the lodge.”

“Hmm.  No cold...” She shifted slightly, turning to face him, and touched fire-warmed fingers to his cheeks.  He turned his head to kiss the pads of her fingers.

“Which means,” Adiira breathed, half to herself , as one hand came up to fist in the neckline of her shirt  “No…”  She yanked and the top shredded off her with a glitter of purple lightning: “...clothing!”

The rest of her clothing fell away with remarkable speed, until she stood before the fire entirely bare, flickering light playing over the sleek curves of back and buttocks, gilding lovely tan skin.  The sight of her nude body still had the power to snatch his breath, slow-coiling desire flashing to lust surging through him; his erection strained against tight trousers.

She palmed his cock, making his breath hiss out on a groan, then reached for his belt.  “My love, I believe you are overdressed for the occasion,” she whispered, gold eyes glinting.   His trousers and shorts slid to his calves, and she fell to her knees before him as he belatedly tugged at the fastenings of his shirt with suddenly clumsy fingers.  

Malavai was hyperaware of her touch as she purred and pressed herself against him, soft breasts brushing his thighs; arms going around him, her fingernails gently scratching at his buttocks making him shiver.  He felt more than heard her growl as she came in contact with the clothing still tangling his legs; she gave him a firm shove with her shoulder and he unbalanced and started to fall, only to find himself caught and cradled in the Force, descending gently to the rug.

He braced himself on his elbows on the soft rug, toeing his boots off his feet as she made short work of their laces before boots, pants, shirt and all went sliding away.  She sat on her heels between his bare legs, looking like a golden idol in the firelight.  Her eyes narrowed as she took in his pose, and a floor pillow slid a few inches and thumped against his back.  He relaxed back against it, a willing sacrifice.

#

Adiira surveyed the bounty sprawled before her, her lanky husband in beautiful abandon, arms outflung, wiry body set in sharp contrast against the deep blues and reds of the plush rug.  His pale skin, flushed now with desire, looked like alabaster in the flickering light - not marble, never anything so cold.  She savored the sight of the two of them together, contrast and complement.  Their panting breath and the crackling of the fire were the only sounds in the winter hush as she prowled forward, bracing herself on her hands to slide over him, barely touching, brushing slowly over his whole body, claiming him as hers.  

Heavy-lidded blue eyes watched her languorously as she swayed downward and took him in her mouth - his back arched and he gasped when her tongue swirled over the head of his cock before taking him deeper, as deep as she could, throat working around him before slowly, slowly coming up again, gradually moving faster, finding her rhythm as he shuddered under her.  

HIs hands came up to tangle in her short hair, and his breath came short and he thrust up into her mouth; she felt his cock pulsing against her lips and then he was coming with a sharp, wordless cry.  She kept going as he came into her mouth, warm rush of salty fluid; she moved slower as tremors rocked him, pleasuring him through the aftershocks until he reached down and urged her up to lie atop him, holding her cradled tightly to his chest, listening as his heartbeat slowed and steadied.

After a few minutes he started petting her back, long smooth strokes of touch-comfort that made her hum with enjoyment and press an appreciative kiss to his collarbone.  He gently rolled her onto her back on the pillow they both lay against.  Her breath came faster as the soothing strokes became feathery traces over her breasts and down her stomach, dancing touches just shy of tickling.  He leaned over to kiss her breasts then, suckling at taut nipples, sending an electric surge of need to tighten in her groin.  His hand slipped between her legs, and she gasped as he dipped two fingers into her cunt to slick her wetness over her clit, circling fingers bringing her close to coming before mouth and fingers both teased away.

She made a plaintive keen of want and he answered with a low “shhh”, sliding down and spreading her legs so that he could lie between them.  He parted her with fingers and tongue, licking and sucking her clit as he reached down and began to stroke himself, bringing himself erect again as he brought her higher and higher until her orgasm rolled her mind like a rogue wave, crashing over her as she cried out and bucked beneath him.  

She needed, wanted... more, and he was ready to meet her need as she reached to draw him up.  He braced himself above her, poising himself at her entrance and then plunging home, thrusting hard and fast as she wrapped her legs around his thighs, as he reached between them and found her clit again, thumb circling, as he thrust into her.  The low surges of her pleasure, never truly stopped, came roaring over her again, whiting out her mind in a rush of glorious sensation.  She felt him shudder and tense and spill into her again with a groan as her aftershocks faded, the two of them moving together until they slowed and stopped and she pulled him down to lie over her, arms around his neck holding him close.

#

Mindful of her comfort, Malavai didn’t want to remain resting on her too long; soon he stirred and she released him to slide over and lie next to her.  She rolled onto her side so that they were face to face as he put his arm around her waist.

“Love…” she murmured, gentle fingers brushing the lock of hair that always fell into his eyes back from his forehead.  He smiled and placed a kiss on her palm, watching her as she watched him.  Her eyes were luminous; a faint smile played on her lips.  Her look, tender and open, he knew was for him alone.  

In public her masks were always in place; the Wrath, the Sith lord, the warrior.  Just two others that he knew of saw the steadfast friend and the patient teacher, but only he was allowed to see the vulnerable lover.  It was a great gift of trust, and he vowed in his heart to always be worthy of it.

#

Adiira woke up warm, nestled in a cocoon of blankets. She savored the last drifting scraps of sleep for as long as possible before finally having to concede that she was, in fact, fully awake.  Stretching full length like a cat, she reached out, but found the other side of the bed cold.  Not unexpected; Malavai was an early riser always.

Slipping out of the covers with a shiver, she rummaged around and found her fur-trimmed robe and the slippers that went with it.  Gifts of House Panteer, along with everything else.  They did nothing by halves - which was good, because she certainly hadn’t packed for this mountain fastness. She padded along the balcony to the main room, looking out arched windows at the snow covered peaks guarding the tiny plateau where the lodge lay nestled.  It was gorgeous here; she had to agree with Malavai on that.  

It had been a wonderful few days, exploring the local valleys on thrantaback, alpine climbing under Malavai’s careful tutelage, returning pleasantly tired to hot baths and candlelight dinners and playful fireside lovemaking.   But she wouldn’t be sorry to get back to warmer climes.  She was growing a bit restless, glad for the precious time alone with him but starting to be eager to take up their work again.

She found her husband, clad in a similar robe, at the writing desk in the great room.  Head bent over a datapad, he didn’t notice her arrival till she slipped her arms around him from behind and rested her chin on his shoulder to read the screen.

“Work?” she asked, surveying the reports he had open.  

Malavai shrugged and smiled wryly.  “You’ve caught me.  I think perhaps I am not meant for a life of undiluted luxury.”  

“It’s been lovely, hasn’t it?  She nibbled the side of his neck thoughtfully.  “You’re not the only one, sadly.  I’ve been thinking that we need to get back.”

“Minx.  Not if you keep that up, not yet,” he said as he shut off the pad and pulled her into his lap.

“Well, not immediately.  But soon. Tomorrow, perhaps?”

“Tomorrow,” he agreed.  

They left the great room hand in hand.

**Author's Note:**

> I used to be disappointed that there are no wedding scenes in SWTOR, given that pretty much all the companion romance plots culminate in proposals, but now I think I'm glad. Everyone's wedding can be unique to them.


End file.
